Free High Citadel / Landslide by Desmond Bagley Page A

it home. ‘Grivas would be happy to be given such work; it would appeal to his sense of drama—and my people have a great sense of drama. As for being—er—slipshod, Grivas bungled the first part of the operation by stupidly killing himself, and the others have bungled the rest of it by not being here to meet us.’
    O’Hara rubbed his chin. As Aguillar drew the picture it made a weird kind of sense.
    Aguillar said, ‘Now, my friends, we come to the next point. Supposing, on the way down this mountain, we meet these men—these communists? What happens then?’ He regarded O’Hara and Forester with bright eyes. ‘It is not your fight—you are not Cordillerans—and I am interestedto know what you would do. Would you give this dago politician into the hands of his enemies or…’
    ‘Would we fight?’ finished Forester.
    ‘It is my fight,’ said O’Hara bluntly. ‘I’m not a Cordilleran, but Grivas pulled a gun on me and made me crash my plane. I didn’t like that, and I didn’t like the sight of the Coughlins. Anyway, I don’t like the sight of communists, and I think that, all in all, this is my fight.’
    ‘I concur,’ said Forester.
    Aguillar raised his hand. ‘But it is not as easy as that, is it? There are others to take into account. Would it be fair on Miss—er—Ponsky, for instance? Now what I propose is this. Miguel, my niece and I will withdraw into another cabin while you talk it over—and I will abide by your joint decision.’
    Forester looked speculatively at Peabody, who was just leaving the hut. He glanced at O’Hara, then said, ‘I think we should leave the question of fighting until there’s something to fight. It’s possible that we might just walk out of here.’
    Aguillar had seen Forester’s look at Peabody. He smiled sardonically. ‘I see that you are a politician yourself, Señor Forester.’ He made a gesture of resignation. ‘Very well, we will leave the problem for the moment—but I think we will have to return to it.’
    ‘It’s a pity we had to come down the mountain,’ said Forester. ‘There’s sure to be an air search, and it might have been better to stay by the Dakota.’
    ‘We could not have lived up there,’ said Rohde.
    ‘I know, but it’s a pity all the same.’
    ‘I don’t think it makes much difference,’ said O’Hara. ‘The wreck will be difficult to spot from the air—it’s right at the foot of a cliff.’ He hesitated. ‘And I don’t know about an air search—not yet, anyway.’
    Forester jerked his head. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
    ‘Andes Airlift isn’t noted for its efficiency and Filson, my boss, isn’t good at paperwork. This flight didn’t even have a number—I remember wondering about it just before we took off. It’s on the cards that San Croce control haven’t bothered to notify Santillana to expect us.’ As he saw Forester’s expression he added, The whole set-up is shoestring and sealing-wax—it’s only a small field.’
    ‘But surely your boss will get worried when he doesn’t hear from you?’
    ‘He’ll worry,’ agreed O’Hara. ‘He told me to phone him from Santillana—but he won’t worry too much at first. There have been times when I haven’t phoned through on his say-so and had a rocket for losing cargo. But I don’t think he’ll worry about losing the plane for a couple of days at least.’
    Forester blew out his cheeks. ‘Wow—what a Rube Goldberg organization. Now I really feel lost.’
    Rohde said, ‘We must depend on our own efforts. I think we can be sure of that.’
    ‘We flew off course too,’ said O’Hara. ‘They’ll start the search north of here—when they start.’
    Rohde looked at Aguillar whose eyes were closed. ‘There is nothing we can do now,’ he said. ‘But we must sleep. It will be a hard day tomorrow.’
III
    Again O’Hara did not sleep very well, but at least he was resting on a mattress instead of a hard floor, with a full belly. Peabody was on